


Time Goes By

by EliDeetz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14122728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliDeetz/pseuds/EliDeetz
Summary: "You could feel time pass, slowly. It was weird, and unusual, so you simply cherished it. Only in lonely moments like those, you felt like it actually existed."Written for the @gabriel-monthly-challenge





	Time Goes By

The smell of leather filled your nostrils, and the cold of the night kept you awake. You drummed your fingers against the steering wheel of your car, and stared at the stars shining across the dark sky above you.

You could feel time pass, slowly. It was weird, and unusual, so you simply cherished it. Only in lonely moments like those, you felt like it actually existed.

Not too long after, the headlights of another car shone against the rearview mirror of yours. The roaring sound from the engine allowed you to quickly recognize it was Dean’s impala.

Both brothers got out of the car, spotting you right away. You took a deep breath, and let your fingers find the vial hanging around your neck. Doing it really didn’t do anything special, except give you a feeling of security.

“Hey, kid.” Dean saluted you, making you snort ever so slightly, whilst Sam simply smiled.

“Kid? I’m older than you,” you immediately pointed out, letting each brother embrace you.

“So you say! We haven’t seen each other in, what? 10 years? You look younger than I did back then,” Sam chimed in, lifting you slightly when he hugged you.

“Not my fault you take steroids.”

Sam messed up your hair at the joke, while his brother laughed loudly. “Okay, enough with the greetings, we have something on our hands,” he said after he was able to stop laughing.

You were thankful they didn’t push the subject any further, and followed them inside the empty diner by the road. A tired waitress simply acknowledged you, as you sat in the booth farthest away from her.

Right after she served coffee for the three of you, the Winchesters wasted no time filling you in about their current situation. It was hard to believe everything they’d gone through in the past years, but not impossible considering _all_ you’d lived.

“So let me get this straight…” you tried to thread the events of their last year together, drinking your 4th cup of coffee. “Satan’s kid is stuck with your _no-longer-dead_ mom, in another dimension, where an apocalypse _did_ happen, and Michael, the archangel, is the real baddie.”

You paused, waiting for a confirmation. They nodded in silence.

“Meanwhile Lucifer is on the run _again_ , and Colonel Sanders wants to kill him.” Dean snickered while saying yes, “With the help of a british moron, that brainwashed your mom, and another archangel that he has imprisoned.”

“Yes, the british moron says he’s on our side now, which is why he told us about the archangel.” He finished for you.

“And you want my help to bust him out?”

“Please?” Sam immediately give you his best puppy eyes.

You leaned back against the seat, rolling your eyes at his attempt to convince you. There suddenly was a pressure on your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, but as you processed it, it was harder to not be scared.

“We know we haven’t seen you in a long time, and we seriously wouldn’t ask you to help us if we could avoid it.” The blonde Winchester assured, “but, lately it feels like we can’t trust anyone.”

The thought of having Lucifer and Michael, two archangels with presumably more power than you’d ever witnessed, in the same universe, was nerve wracking. Even if you had your own problems, you simply couldn’t decline helping them.

Letting them go by themselves to hell and back for the third archangel, seemed dangerous enough.

“What’s his name? The one that’s locked down.”

“Gabriel, we knew him a couple of years after we last saw you. He helped us with Lucifer back then, maybe he’ll do it again,” Sam replied, his hazel eyes locking with yours.

“Maybe,” you muttered under your breath, tapping your fingers on the table.

The brothers remained silent, waiting for your answer while fidgeting with their ceramic cups. Something inside you knew they would do the same for you, if you asked.

“Okay.”

* * *

 

The rescue wasn’t going as planned. Both you and Dean had barely managed to break into the chambers, while Sam and Castiel were stuck bringing down as many demons as they could. He ran along the cells, looking for Gabriel, while you checked no one else caught up.

You saw him peeking into the cells, stopping abruptly in front of the only one with a door instead of bars.

“Hey, Gabriel! (Y/N), he’s here, help me!” Dean tried to kick the door down by himself, almost hurting his leg in the process.

“ _Move,_ you caveman.” You shoved him aside, and shot the lock of the door to break it. Succeeding, you pushed it open, allowing Dean to walk inside.

At the other side of the cell, sat a man with faltered posture. His clothes were torn, and dirty with blood, as well as his hair. How did Dean even knew it was the right guy?

You didn’t had the time to think about anything else, deciding to worry about introductions later as you saw the door to the hall began to give.

“Dean, hurry!” You pressed, running to hold back the door with your body.

“Come on, dude. Give me a hand here,” you heard him ask to the archangel, grunting as he tried to lift him by the arm.

The reply that came from him was a muffled sound, making you wonder why he wouldn’t speak. Screams and grunts brought your concentration back to the door, followed by strong bangs.

“(Y/N), it’s us!” Sam yelled, and you opened the door right after.

Castiel made a beeline towards the cell with Dean and Gabriel, determined to carry his brother out of there. Sam stayed by your side, checking to make sure the two of you were okay.

“Alright, let’s go,” the oldest Winchester said, finally walking outside the chamber with Castiel and the archangel leaned on their shoulders for support, his head still falling down.

He looked downright beaten and exhausted.

You turned towards the exit, hurrying out of there. The four men followed behind, as cautiously as you, yet no one was able to spot the demon hiding next to a pillar.

Without giving you time to react, he shoved his blade on your abdomen. It punctured it deeply, the excruciating pain making it impossible for you to fight back.

Sam wasted no time darting towards the demon and killing him, trying to hold you before you fell down. It wasn’t the first time going through pain like that, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“(Y/N) hold on, we’ll help you. Cas!” The brunette Winchester called for the angel, still holding you close.

His arms trembled around you, as he debated whether to apply pressure on your wound or not. You closed your eyes tightly, praying it wouldn’t be deep enough to kill you before it healed.

After a deep breath, and before the angel could get to you, a warmth began spreading through your body. A shiny, blue light traveled from the vial under your clothes to your wound, healing it in an instant.

“What the hell?” Both brothers snapped after the light faded, staring at you in disbelief.

Muffled words came from Gabriel’s mouth, but you neither dared to look at him, nor at the Winchesters. You moved away from Sam’s grip, still avoiding their inquiring gazes. “Let’s go,” you mumbled under your breath.

The rest of the mission went as a blur, as you fought your way out of there, trying to protect the Winchesters while avoiding looking at them all at once. Before you knew it, the five of you were out and running towards the impala.

“Hold on, you have to explain yourself _now_!” Dean demanded, right before you reached the car.

“Not now, Dean. Please, let’s just go --”

The words got caught up at your throat as you turned to finally face them, a heart wrenching pain began to make its way through you. What you felt when you were stabbed, was nowhere near as strong as what you were suddenly experiencing.

It felt surreal, like couldn’t be possible, but it was. You’d just risked your life saving him, without even knowing. He tried saying something, the stitches on his mouth, and dried blood keeping him from doing so.

He didn’t look like he once did when you met, mighty and powerful. Instead, he looked like what he’d been for years: a prisoner. His hair was messy with blood and dirt, as well as his face and tarnished clothes. There were bruises and abrasions all over his body, that apparently he was too weak to heal.

But his eyes, that was how you finally recognized him.

His golden eyes were locked with yours, the urgency for you to notice him painted over his bloodied features. As you stared into them, you knew it was him.

“Loki?” His name left your lips in a whisper, as soon as you found your voice.

* * *

 

The silence and awkwardness on the trip back to the bunker remained glued to all of you long after you arrived. You’d tried to leave as soon as Dean parked inside their garage, but the pleas of both him and his brother for you to stay, stopped you from doing so.

That, and the unintelligible mumbles from Loki, who you had now learned to be Gabriel.

You quietly sat on the library, your eyes focused on some invisible spot on the wall across from you. Castiel carefully removed the stitches from his brother’s mouth, and you’d agreed to explain yourself if Gabriel did.

The blue-eyed angel stepped away from his brother once he was done and stood awkwardly next to him. You noticed he didn’t know what to say, just like the Winchesters sitting across from you.

“Can you talk?” Sam asked the archangel, who was chugging down water to soothe the pain in his throat.

He placed the cup on his hands down, his labored breaths filling the silence in the room. His dried lips parted, and he cleared his throat before trying to speak.

“Give… me a moment,” he pleaded, drinking more water.

You thought about the vial, and the wounded Pagan God/Archangel struggling to sit up. Castiel couldn't heal him, since his wounds had been inflicted with magic and special weaponry.

Despite the anger and the lies, you cared for him far too much not to feel bad. With a quick movement, you pulled the vial from under your shirt, and snapped the strap from around your neck.

Everybody’s eyes were back on you, as you offered it to Gabriel. The blue light inside shone brighter in his presence, and its force became greater. You could feel it tingling in the palm of your hand.

“I can’t take it,” he hurried to say, hurting his vocal cords and pushing your hand away from him. “It would reverse everything that has done for you, I can’t lose you.” Gabriel coughed as he spoke, it was too much to say without warming up.

The fear in his tone was almost palpable, making your heart clench and ache without a warning.

“You gave her your grace?!” Castiel inquired with an irritated tone, glaring at his brother disapprovingly.

“His _what_? You said it was a spell, a potion.” You didn’t know much about celestial beings, but judging the posture Castiel had taken, it didn’t seem good.

“Anyone care to fill us in? We’re literally right here,” Dean suddenly said, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“I’m immortal, _he_ made me immortal.” You clarified, pointing a finger at Gabriel, who silently asked you to stop talking.

“Gabriel,” Castiel scolded him, growing upset with every minute. “How could you?”

“Stay out of it,” he replied, the look on his face now fierce, just as you remembered him. “(Y/N), let’s talk privately, please,” he rasped.

“No, they need answers as much as I do,” you barked, making him clench his jaw.

At the grim silence of everybody else in the room, you kept explaining. “I was born in Scandinavia, on the 10th century. The crazed, fanatic members of my village tried to sacrifice me the gods. Loki saved me.”

The brothers stared at you dumbfounded, failing to keep their mouths closed. “He faked my death, and gave me revenge. When it was done, he seduced me,” you continued, ignoring the stupid grin on Dean’s face. “He offered me immortality, and just about everything I wanted… in exchange for my mortal life, my loyalty. Loki, he... was a god, and I was a simple village girl. I said yes without giving it much thought.”

You saw the archangel frowning, his whiskey colored eyes staring at the table in front of him, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“And I don't regret a single second of it,” you added, watching his gaze snap right back at you.

“We are not allowed to do things like that, (Y/N). It’s unnatural,” Castiel loomed closer to you, making you slightly uneasy.

“Cas,” Dean called him, trying to diverse his attention from you, while Sam walked over to pull you closer to them.

Gabriel stood from his seat with an abrupt movement, placing himself between you and his brother. “Whatever you’re thinking inside that empty head of yours, don’t,” he warned, ignoring his weakened state.

“We can’t let her go on, brother.”

“You won’t touch her,” Gabriel snarled, stepping closer to Castiel.

The energy of the place began to shift, Gabriel’s grace inside the vial was almost blinding, and the lights of the bunker began to flicker violently. He was getting angry, you recalled how it felt, and it was just like the night he saved you.

“Cas this is (Y/N) we’re talking about, she has never done anything wrong. She’s our friend,” Sam tried to reason, making you stand behind him.

You didn’t know what to say. Half your brain was still trying to process the fact that Gabriel was alive, while the other was stuck between your fight or flight response.

There where now two hunters and an archangel shielding you from the trenchcoated angel. He seemed determined, but after what felt like an eternity of them staring each other down, he stepped away. The mood in the room shifted once more, now more calm, compared to the previous one.

“I apologize, (Y/N). I didn’t realize,” Castiel said in a low voice.

“Don’t worry, not the first time some has tried to kill me,” you tried lighten up the mood with a joke, but the angel kept staring at you with a weird look on his face.

Something inside you stopped you from asking what was it that he hadn’t realized.

* * *

 

A little over two weeks had gone by, and you were still at the bunker. You tried to leave almost everyday, but all that Loki and the boys meant to you, was far too strong for you to simply leave them behind.

Even if you wanted to be around him, you still hadn't given him the chance to explain himself. You couldn’t stop thinking about all the centuries he’d lied straight to your face, and how he simply left without a warning.

You wanted to know, but were far too stubborn to let your anger simmer down in the slightest. You figured the two of you had all the eternity to talk… Unless his brothers destroyed the earth.

Two weeks had gone uneventful, the closest Asmodeus came to catch the Winchesters was when one of his minions found them at a Gas and Sip. They quickly dealt with him, erasing their tracks with Ketch’s help.

Gabriel was almost completely healed.  It showed in his energy, and how he began pulling pranks to the guys. His playful ways and trickster manners made you smile, as you remembered yourself being mesmerized by the God of Mischief.

It was hard not to feel attracted to him again. He’d been your first and only for centuries. You held his grace in your hand tightly, feeling it’s warmth and power, aching to feel it again over your body. There was no denying you’d missed him terribly, the 12 or so years you were apart.

“The Winchesters found me,” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you sit up from your chair with a jerky movement.

He was standing at the entrance of the kitchen, watching you for Odin-knows-how-long. Gabriel was wearing a grey shirt, and a tight, blue-leather jacket, with dark jeans. There was still a cut and a bruise on the right side of his face, but he cleaned up good, you had to give it to him.

You rolled your eyes at his words, and tried to leave the kitchen, but your legs wouldn’t move. You immediately glared at him, knowing it was his doing.

“Let me go, Loki,” you ordered, not being able to help calling him the name you’d always known him for.

“No, not until you listen. I’ve been trying to ignore your thoughts for _days_ , but I can’t. You _are_ gonna listen.” The seriousness in his voice and the dark glint in his eyes, stopped you from saying anything else.

“I didn’t abandon you, the Winchesters found me. As soon as I saw them, I knew the switch to the apocalypse was going down.” He took a step closer to you, his hands shoved inside his pockets.

His posture was calm, but nothing else in him was. You realized it wasn't Gabriel you were now dealing with, this was the God, Loki.

“I wasn’t going to be able to keep you safe, but you could on your own. So, I tried to make them go my way, to do what I needed them to do,” he explained, diminishing the distance between you a little more. “I figured if I did it quickly, you wouldn't mind us being apart a couple of years. But the plans changed, too many damn times.”

You simply stared at him as he spoke, feeling the bravado that had build inside you fade away, the closer he was to you. A too familiar tingling sensation forced you to press your legs together.

“At the end, Lucifer wounded me, I was far too weak to find you, and too terrified you would get involved in that whole mess if you found me.” He was now standing in front of you, his warm breath hitting your face. “I had to lay low, after the douche-bros put his ass back in the cage.”

He was intoxicating, everything you’d craved for over a decade. Even when time didn’t feel like it was passing, it hurt. It hurt you so much, when you had to experience it away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you really are?” The question left your mouth without a thought, your breath hitching once his hand snaked to the back of your neck, just like  old times.

“I couldn’t have anyone find out about you and question you about me. If you only knew about Loki, they would simply let you go, instead of using you against me. Which was exactly how they got me.” Gabriel’s nose touched yours, and then trailed over your cheek and down to your neck.

You unconsciously pressed your body against him, gripping his cold jacket in your hands to pull him as close as you could. His free hand found its way to your waist and down your ass, tightly pushing you closer to his.

“What do you mean?” Among the desire and fire building inside, you were conscious enough to analyze every word that left his lips.

“They told me they had you. I didn’t even stop to think, before I burst down to hell, trying to find you.” He placed a kiss on your earlobe, and another one on your cheek. “I was too weak to fight back, but that didn’t stop me. The only thing that kept me sane all these years, was knowing they didn’t actually had you.”

“Gabriel,” you whispered. He tensed up at you calling his real name, a heavy sigh left his mouth as he tried to keep himself grounded. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you before.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he immediately said, pushing you to the wall behind you. Gabriel ground his hips against yours, rubbing his erection between your legs. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t, please. My body aches for you,” you pleaded, unwilling to let go of him. “I need you.”

“ _Elska_ _n_ _mín,_ ” he muttered under his breath, finally letting his lips crash against yours.

The kiss was long, deep, and needy. His tongue and yours danced harmoniously, like they’d done for two millenniums. He bit your lower lip every now and then, while his hands roamed around your body.

You whined in discontent when he pulled away, confused as to why he’d done it. Your doubt was quickly cleared, as you watched him kneel while trying to pull down your pants.

“No,” you managed to grab him by the shirt to pull him back up, and he stared at you slightly confused. “Gods don’t kneel,” you joked, earning a mischievous smirk, just for you. “I need you inside, _now_.”

“As you wish. It was our deal, after all,” Gabriel mumbled as he turned you around, finally pulling your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear.

You heard him quickly unzipping, and felt him line with your entrance right after. He rubbed against your wetness, groaning at the feeling of it. “Fuck,” you heard him said.

The two of you moaned in unison as he finally made his way inside you, the longing for moments like these making you wrap tightly around him. He let his head fall down to your back, taking a deep breath before starting to move.

He eased back slowly, enough to leave only the tip inside, only to then shove it right back with a hard thrust. His slow pace didn’t last long, and he soon was fucking you faster against the wall, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise you.

You know he was still restraining himself, unsure as to why. “Gabriel. Deeper, harder, I want to--” you struggled to continue, feeling his length twitching inside of you.

“Not like this,” he managed to say, completely pulling out, and turning you to kiss you again.

This one was rougher, hungrier. His hands traveled inside your shirt, eagerly caressing your stomach and breasts, as he pushed you towards the table. You got his hint, and let yourself fall back over it. He quickly placed himself between your legs, and crawled on top of you.

“I want to see your face when you come.” You almost did at his words, and he quickly sank back inside of you.

All the self-control was gone. the kitchen was filled with your loud moans and screaming as he fucked you mercilessly. One of his hands traveled down between you, and he circled your clitoris with his thumb.

You began squirming under him and his touch, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer. “I, I’m --” you barely stuttered, clenching your hands into fist.

With one more strong shove, and the continued rubbing of your nub, you finally came undone. His thrusts shortly became erratic, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging him to come inside of you. He didn’t need you to hold him too hard, and smiled before finally filling you up with his seed.

A breath of relief left his chest, as he let himself fall over you, burying his face on the crook of your neck. You hugged him tightly, brushing his damp, golden curls with your fingers in complete silence.

“Now, _you_ … can get whatever you want,” he said after a moment, raising to look at you and place a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You laughed as you recalled the arrangement, realizing he’d kept his promise after so many centuries.

“I believe I just did.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Elskan mín: my love.


End file.
